The Ivory Throne (Knights of Caliburn University #2)

Chapter 1

ONE

KINGSTON

Crack.

The blow lands hard enough to make my mask ring.

“Shit.” I hear Lanz gasp. “Shit. King, are you okay?”

The world spins. Dimly, I see Lanz pulling off his mask and drop his foil. I take a staggered step, getting my bearings.

“I’m fine.” I force my hand steady enough to slip off my own mask and feel the telltale throb of something liquid pouring over my lips and chin.

Nosebleed.

“Jesus Christ.” Lanz goes pale as he sees me. Callahan looks left, grabs a towel from a bench, and hands it to me.

I take it and hold it to my face, but don't leave the strip. “Thank you.”

Pressure. I need to apply pressure.

"God, King, I'm really sorry. I should have checked my—“

"Lanz," I interrupt him firmly. "It's fine."

"It's not fine," Callahan says in his low, steady voice. "You're bleeding all over the place."

I press the towel harder. "It happens," I say. "I'm used to it."

"King, you should—"

"I said I'm fine." I don't mean to snap, but I wish they would just listen to me when I tell them the truth. I swallow, clamping the muscles of my hand tighter. The blood keeps coming. I can taste it in my throat, feel it wicking into the towel.

"You should lean your head back—”

“Forward,” I correct Lanz. "Forward's better. Just give me a moment."

They do. I keep my breathing steady and the pressure even and hard. And gradually, I feel it subside.

"All right." I wipe my face with the towel and toss it gently to the side. "Let's keep going."

Lanz and Callahan look at each other. They don't move.

"Kingston," Lanz tries again.

"I said I'm fine," I bark. "It's fine. Please, can we just—"

"Hey," Callahan says, stepping slightly between us. "Let's take it down a notch."

The salle goes silent, tense. Just the sound of breathing, the distant clank of radiators. Lanz works his jaw. He looks at me, eyes tight and intent, then shakes his head slowly.

"You always do this, man,” he mutters.”

"What?" I say—again a bit sharply. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Just..." Lanz sighs, his shoulders dropping. "How long are you going to keep saying things are fine when they're obviously not fine? I mean, for Christ's sake, King. You're literally bleeding out and acting like nothing is wrong. It's just so..." He runs his fingers through his hair.

I let out a metered breath, try to keep my composure. "I appreciate your concern," I say, "but I've told you, it happens, and—"

"I'm not talking about the fucking nosebleed," Lanz says. "It's been, what, six weeks?"

A pall falls over the salle.

I look directly at Lanz. "I'm aware."

Callahan tries to step in again. "Lanz—”

"No, Cal." Lanz shrugs away out of his grasp. “Come on, King. What the hell’s going on?” His voice is soft, but I can hear the strain beneath his words. “You’re just running two-a-days like nothing happened, barely talking to anyone. Meanwhile, Kai’s fucked off to get drunk half the time, and the library is—”

"I told you," I say. "The investigation is still active."

This is the truth, technically, but not for much longer. The deadline for the insurance claim is looming.

"Bullshit," Lanz says. “I’m sorry, Kingston, but that's a bullshit reason. Even you said they're probably gonna find it's accidental. Elena and everyone has an alibi. What are you so worried about?"

I can't answer that.

There’s a lot I can’t answer, lately.

I’ve known what I was going to do with my life since I was old enough to understand what it meant. Earlier, in some senses. Since the day I was born. The day my mother died. I’ve always, always known what I would have to do.

But I never knew how complicated it would be.

For so long, it wasn’t. It was simple—difficult, challenging, even, but simple. Win the match, ace the test, make the right choice, don’t make the wrong one.

So for years I thought—I thought I knew—that the greatest challenge in my life would be resisting temptation.

Now I know it’s not. The greatest challenge is knowing what to do next.

And I don’t.

Another trickle of blood starts down my upper lip.

“Look,” Lanz says, hesitant. “I’m not trying to overstep, or anything. I know interfacing with the Consistory is more your domain, but…aren’t they breathing down your neck by now? Because—”

“I haven’t told them.”

“You haven’t?” Lanz stares at me. “Dude…why not? Aren’t you supposed to?”

I shake my head, and wipe away the blood with my glove. “No. It’d be premature. We haven’t truly found anything, and…”

That isn’t the whole truth. I know it’s not. Lanz and Cal likely know it’s not, too.

The truth is, I don’t know what to do.

I know she’s safe where she is, because Morgan confirmed it.

And I know as long as she’s safe that I can continue to abide like this. Training. Studying. Praying.

Waiting for the right answer to appear.

But beyond that…I just don’t. I just don’t know.

“Yeah.” Lanz doesn’t sound convinced. “I guess.” He digs the point of his foil into the toe of his shoe, rebending the blade the same way he always has, and for a moment, it’s like we’re twelve years old again.

Bouting on the lawn of one estate or another while our fathers did business.

Speculating about what would happen when we finally became oblates, were consecrated into knights.

From above, I hear pounding footsteps, and I brace myself. I know who it is, and I know I need in anticipation of whatever idiocy Kai is about to unleash. Sure enough, the door to the sale flies open and crashes loudly into the wall.

“An electrical fire?”

Kai walks into, almost falls into, the salle, a snarl on his face.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he cries, arms wide. “A fucking electrical fire is what they’re claiming torched up the library?”

I stiffen my spine. I’d known that was the leading theory; Father had shared as much from the trustees. But it seems it’s now official.

“An ‘Act of God.’” Kai draws air quotes. “Nice and tidy for that insurance claim, huh? So poetic, too. God did it.” He laughs. “Give me a fucking break.”

“Who else could have done it, Kai?” Lanz interjects. “Elena and everyone…they were all at Porter’s. Celebrating. We’d just beaten St. Ignaty, remember?”

“I’ll fucking tell you who,” Kai says. “Moroslav.”

My blood goes cold.

“What?”

“It was Moroslav. Alexei Moroslav started that fire,” Kai stares at me, his gaze unsteady.

“I can fucking prove it, if you even care. Tried to tell Daddy Dearest, even, but he told me to get bent and stop talking about arson because arson claims don’t pay out.

But I know it was him. All pissed off from losing and wanted to get back at us.

” He gestures wildly, something dangling from his hand. “And she took the fall.”

Car keys, I realize. The Escalade.

“What are you doing, Kai?” I take a step towards him, but he leaps back.

“She deserves to know the truth,” my foster brother says, arms spread wide.

From this close, I can smell the liquor on his breath.

“I’m not going to let her rot away somewhere thinking we sold her down the fucking river for something that Russian bastard did to get a rise out of us.

Maybe you’re fine with throwing her away like that, taking the money, and moving on, but I’m not.

And since I know won’t tell her, like the coward you are, then. ..” He jingles the keys. “I will.”

A pang of realization. He’s going to try to leave. To drive to—

“Kai, no. We—Kai!”

He ignores me, jumps out of my reach, and darts up the stairs.

“Shit,” I say under my breath. I look around, trying to think, the pressure to act like a physical thing bearing down on me.

I can't let Kai drive to her, let alone drive drunk. I can't let him be the one to tell her.

I think of what I saw with Morgan. That place where Gwenna is.

And I know Kai’s right.

I’m acting like a coward. I am a coward.

And Gwenna deserves the truth.

“Lanz,” I snap. “Get Kai. Stop him. Do not let him drive away.”

Lanz nods and sprints off as I rip off my jacket and glove, tear out of my underplastron and knickers and cast around for my street clothes.

On the edge of the strip, Cal hesitates. “What are you—”

“Get changed,” I order him. “And get your coat.”